Parzival

by Wolfram von Eschenbach

  This discerning infidel lady, who was also very rich, had acquired the facility of speaking excellent French, and the Waleis answered her in these terms.

  ‘May God reward you, madam, for consoling me so kindly. Yet I am not released from doleful feelings, as I shall explain. I cannot show my pain as it makes itself known to me when many a one, ignorant of my griefs, misbehaves towards me and subjects me to mockery, too. I shall never own myself happy till I have seen the Gral, whether the time be short or long. My thoughts impel me to that goal, from which nothing shall sever me till the end of my days. If, having followed the precepts of my education, I am now to hear people twitting me, then Gurnemanz’s schooling may have had some flaws. For the noble man instructed me that I should refrain from asking questions over-freely and to be always on my guard against unmannerliness. Now I see many worthy knights standing here. Pray advise me, gentlemen, how to win your good will. Dire execution has been done on me here with words, nor do I reproach any whose favour I have lost because of that. But if I gain distinction in days to come, then treat me according to my deserts. I am in great haste to take my leave of you. Whilst my reputation flourished you all gave me your company. I now declare you free till I have gained that thing the lack of which has seared my verdant joy! Great sorrow will attend me such as brings heart’s rain to eyes, seeing that I, alas, left how many? lovely maidens up at Munsalvæsche, and so was cast out from true happiness. For whatever marvels men have storied of, the Gral has more! Its lord drags out a wretched life. – Helpless Anfortas, what help was it to you that I was at your side?’

  They cannot stand here any longer, they must now take leave of one another. The Waleis told Arthur the Briton and his knights and ladies that he desired their kind leave to go, but this found favour with none, for in my opinion they were all very sorry to see him ride away in such despondency.

  Arthur solemnly promised him that if his country were ever again reduced to such straits as Clamide had brought it to, he would treat the affront as if done to himself, and he added that it vexed him that Lähelin had wrested two kingdoms from Parzival. Amid many protestations of their devotion the warrior left them, impelled by deep sorrow.

  Lady Cunneware, lovely girl, took me dauntless knight by the hand and led him away. Then my lord Gawan embraced him. ‘It is plain to me,’ said the brave knight to the mettlesome warrior, ‘that you will not escape fighting on your journey. May God then grant you a favourable outcome, and may He help me too to go on serving you as I would wish. May God in his power grant me this!’

  ‘Alas, what is God?’ asked the Waleis. ‘Were He all-powerful – were God active in His almightiness – he would not have brought us to such shame! Ever since I knew of Grace I have been His humble servitor. But now I will quit His service! If He knows anger I will shoulder it. My friend, when your hour of combat is at hand, let a woman join issue in your stead, let her guide your hand! Let the love of one whom you know to be modest and given to womanly virtues watch over you there. I do not know when I shall see you again. May all my good wishes be fulfilled for you!’

  Their parting gave them Despondency as a harsh neighbour to live with.

  Lady Cunneware now led him to her pavilion and called for his armour. Then, arming the son of Gahmuret with her soft fair hands, ‘It is my duty and my privilege,’ she said, ‘since thanks to you the King of Brandigan has asked for me. Deep concern for your noble person causes me many a sad sigh. When I find you defenceless against sorrow, your cares prey on my happiness.’

  Parzival’s war-horse was now ready in its housing, and his troubles were to begin in earnest. For his part the handsome warrior was clad in shimmering steel, every piece of the highest quality, while his tabard and his surcoat were adorned with gems. When only his helmet remained to be laced on, he kissed lovely young Cunneware – this is what the tale told me of her. Then there was a sad farewell between these two who were so dear to one another.

  Gahmuret’s son rode away. Now whatever marvels have been told until now, let no one draw comparisons till he has heard what Parzival does later, which path he chooses and where his journey leads him. Let those who shun knightly combat not think of him meanwhile if their proud spirits so persuade them.

  Condwiramurs, how often the memory of your lovely person will be evoked! What marvellous exploits will be laid at your feet! From now on the Office of the Shield will be pursued by Herzeloyde’s child with the Gral as his mark, and indeed he was co-heir to it.

  Many of Arthur’s retainers then set out with the arduous ambition of seeing an adventure where four hundred damsels together with four queens were held captive in Schastel marveile. Whatever befell them there they may keep it, I do not begrudge it them: where ladies’ rewards are concerned I lag behind.

  ‘I failed to come up to the mark there,’ Clias the Greek openly admitted. ‘The Turkoyt* thrust me over my crupper, to my shame. Nevertheless, he named me four ladies there who are entitled to wear crowns. Two of them are old, two still very young. Of these, one is called Itonje, the second is Cundrie;* the third lady is Arnive and the fourth Sangive.’ The knights all wished to see this with their own eyes, but their journeys did not unveil it, for, willy-nilly, they were discomfited there. For my part I deplore it but little, since when men endure hardship for women it may bring them happiness, yet sorrow too can tip their scales right down, such is often Love’s way with her reward.

  Lord Gawan too made himself ready to appear before the King of Ascalun as one able to champion his own cause, and many Britons with many women, both married and unmarried, mourned it. They lamented the warlike excursion that took him away from them. The Table Round was now orphaned of its glory.

  Gawan gave his close attention to the wherewithal of victory. Certain merchants had brought some shields on their sumpters, old, firm and well seasoned – little did he care what they looked like! And though they were not for sale, Gawan was given three of them. True stalwart that he was, he then acquired seven chargers picked for their fitness for battle, and from his friends he received a dozen keen lances from Angram hafted with stout bamboos from a swamp in heathen Oraste Gentesin.

  Gawan then took his leave of them and set out with dauntless courage. Arthur would hold back nothing from him, he made him gifts most costly and sumptuous: gleaming gems, red gold and many sterlings of silver.

  Gawan’s fortunes were now trundling towards cares and perils.

  Young Ekuba – I mean the puissant infidel lady – went to embark on her ship. Then the gathering dispersed from the Plimizœl in all directions. Arthur repaired to Karidœl, but not before Cunneware and Clamide had taken their leave of him, followed by the illustrious Prince Orilus and Lady Jeschute of Karnant, who nevertheless sojourned in the meadow for three more days with Clamide, since he was celebrating his nuptials. The wedding-feast was yet to be arranged and indeed it took place later in his own country on a larger scale. Many knights, gentlefolk struggling against poverty, remained in Clamide’s train and all the strolling entertainers, since his munificence demanded it of him. These he took with him to his own land, where his goods and chattels were doled out among them to his great credit. There was no fobbing them off with lying excuses!

  At Clamide’s request, Lady Jeschute rode to Branigan in the company of her darling Orilus. This was done in honour of Lady Cunneware the Queen, for Orilus’s sister was crowned there.

  Now I am sure that any intelligent woman who reads this, granted she be sincere, will truthfully agree with me that I have succeeded in narrating better on the subject of women than I once sang of a certain lady.* Queen Belacane was without fault and she was free of all falsity when a dead king was laying siege to her. Then Herzeloyde’s dream left a veil of sighs round her heart. Consider Lady Ginover’s plaint on the day of Ither’s passing. Further, I was grieved by die pity of it that the King of Karnant’s daughter, the Lady Jeschute, famed for her modest ways, should have been so paraded and put to shame. What a basting Cunneware had whe
n gripped by her hair! But these two have been vindicated, their humiliation has turned to high esteem.

  Now let a man who is adept in romancing and skilled at joining and separating couplets take this story and end it. I myself would gladly tell you more, were lips borne by other feet than dangle in my stirrups to command it.†

  Chapter 7

  THIS story will now rest for a while with one who never did a shameful deed – with Gawan, famed as a man of worth. For this tale takes friendly note of many beside or beyond its hero Parzival. Those who laud their darling to the skies all the time lack words to praise another. A poet who commends his hero with an eye for truth needs approval to encourage him, otherwise, whatever he said, it would be as a house without a roof. Who will retain a sensible utterance if not men of judgment? If you ask me, lying tales would be better left out in the snow with no host to care for them, so that those who spread them as truth would hurt their mouths – then God would have dealt with them to the liking of worthy poets whose honesty makes them take pains. When a noble patron allies himself to those who crave such corrupt works he must do so from lack of discernment. Had he a sense of shame he would desist, that is the course he should follow.

  Gawan, upright man, was so circumspect in his valour that his fame never suffered hurt from cowardice. On the field of battle his heart was a stronghold which loomed high above the fray – in the mêlée all saw him! Friend and foe alike declared that his shout rang clear as he pursued honour, glad though Kingrimursel would have been to deny it him with his challenge.

  Now Gawan, brave knight, had taken leave of Arthur I do not know how many days past, and having emerged from the forest was crossing a valley with his retinue when, from the rise at the far side, a fearsome sight came into view that only redoubled his courage. All too plainly the warrior saw an army led by many banners and marching in grand style.

  ‘It is too far for me to escape back into the forest,’ he thought. He told his squires quickly to saddle a charger which Orilus had given him. It was called ‘Gringuljete of the Red Ears’ and had been presented to him without his asking for it in any way. It was from Munsalvæsche and had been captured by Lähelin on the shores of Lake Brumbane – he had thrust a knight over its crupper so that he fell dead from the wound, as Trevrizent was later to divulge.

  ‘When a man loses heart and turns tail before he is attacked, it is too quick for his good name, as I see it,’ Gawan mused. ‘I will go straight up to them, whatever comes of it. In any event, most of them have seen me. There is bound to be some way out.’

  He dismounted as though to make a halt. The contingents of those riding in company there were beyond count. Gawan saw many well-cut tunics and shields with markings altogether strange to him, nor did he know their pennants.

  ‘I am a stranger to this army,’ said noble Gawan, ‘for they are quite unknown to me. If they wish to make a quarrel of it, I vow I will deliver them a joust with my own hand before I turn away!’

  And now they had girthed Gringuljete who had been urged on to the attack in many a tight corner such as was intended for him here. Gawan saw innumerable helmets magnificently adorned with their crests, whose wearers’ pages for their bitter sport were carrying thousands of new white lances overpainted in various colours making known their lords’ devices. Gawan fil li roy Lot also saw a terrible welter of mules carrying paraphernalia and a train of well-laden waggons hastening to their quarters. The sutlers followed after in indescribable confusion -how could it be otherwise? ‘Ladies’ were not wanting either: some were wearing their twelfth girdle as gage for their favours. No queens they, these drabs were what you call ‘soldiers’ sweethearts’. There, too, were a crowd of vagabonds both young and old, their limbs weary from trudging. Some would have better graced the gallows rather than swell the ranks of an army and dishonour worthy people.

  The army which Gawan had waited for had either ridden or marched past. This was because any that had seen him standing there had imagined him to be one of their number. No prouder company of knights ever marched, on this side of the sea or on the other. They were in high spirits.

  Racing hard on their tracks came a well-bred squire with a riderless war-horse at his saddle-bow. He was carrying a brand new shield and was spurring his nag unmercifully on both flanks in haste to join the fray. His clothes were of excellent cut.

  Gawan rode up to this squire and after duly greeting him asked whose retinue it was.

  ‘Sir, you are mocking me,’ replied the squire. ‘Had I earned such a cruel snub from you by some discourtesy I should have been dishonoured less by any other misfortune I had suffered! You and the others are better acquainted than I, so why ask me? These matters are better known to you a thousand times!’

  Gawan denied that he had recognized any of those who had ridden past and proffered many oaths to support it. ‘My travels are a disgrace to me, since I cannot truly say that I have ever seen any of these knights before, wherever my services were needed.’

  ‘Then, sir, I have behaved badly. I should have answered you in the first place. My better judgment failed me. Now pronounce on my fault and deal with me as you will. Then I shall gladly tell you. But first let me apologize for my rudeness.’

  ‘By your embarrassment – which does your manners credit – tell me who they are, young sir.’

  ‘The man now marching ahead of you, whose warlike advance nothing can withstand, is King Poydiconjunz. Duke Astor of Lanverunz is with him. Also marching there is a blackguard whom no woman freely favoured. He wears the crown of outrage, and is named Meljahkanz. Any pleasure he ever had of woman, married or otherwise, was had by force. He should be put to death for it. He is Poydiconjunz’s son and is set on doing feats of arms. And indeed the valiant man performs them often and resolutely. But what is the use of his being brave? A sow will defend her farrow if she has it trotting beside her! I never heard any man praised whose courage was not paired with decency, and many will agree with me.

  ‘Sir, listen to a remarkable thing, and let me tell it from start to finish. Behind you, King Meljanz of Liz, spurred on by his unmannerliness, is bringing a great army. He has succumbed to pride and anger and acted for no other cause than misconceived love.

  ‘My lord,’ continued the courteous squire, ‘I will tell you the story, since I witnessed it all. King Meljanz’s father summoned the great nobles of his land to his death-bed. The forfeit for his brave life was not redeemed, so he had to surrender to Death! In these sad circumstances he commended handsome young Meljanz to all present. Then, privately, he chose one of his greatest princes, a man of proven loyalty and free of all guile, and asked him to bring up his son. – “Upon him, now, you can authenticate your loyal love,” he said. “Ask him to show honour to both strangers and familiars, and should any needy man desire it, bid him let the man share in his possessions.” In such terms was the boy commended to them.

  ‘Duke Lyppaut put into effect all that his lord the King Schaut had asked of him on his death-bed. No tittle of it lapsed, in the sequel it was all discharged down to the last item.

  ‘Duke Lyppaut took the boy with him. At home he had children of his own whom he loved and rightly still does – a daughter judged fully ripe to take a lover, called Obie, and her sister Obilot. It is Obie who has caused us this trouble.

  ‘One day things came to the point where the young King asked her to reward his attentions. She cursed his poor wits and asked what fancies he was indulging, and why he had taken leave of his senses. “If you were old enough to have excelled on occasions when honour is to be won amid the grim dangers of battle, crouched behind your shield, your helmet laced on your head, for five full years of your life and had then returned to place yourself at my command and only then had I said yes to your desire, I should have granted you too soon. You are as dear to me – who denies it? – as Galoes to Annore, who found death later, after losing him in a joust.”*

  ‘ “I do not like to see you so enamoured, madam, that you vent your ra
ge on me. If true love is to receive its due, mercy has its place beside devotion, when all is said. When you disdain my overtures you go too far, my lady. You have outrun yourself. I should have thought it would stand in my favour that your father is my vassal and holds his castles and lands from me.”

  ‘ “Let any whom you enfeoff deserve it of you!” she said. “The mark I have set myself is higher. I do not wish to hold a fief from anyone! My freedom fits me for any crown worn by mortal head!”

  ‘ “Your pride has been puffed up by things you have been told!” he retorted. “Your father has put you up to this and will have to make amends to me for wronging me. I shall bear arms here to such effect that there will be some hacking and thrusting – tournament or battle, no few lances will be shattered!”

  ‘In high dudgeon he left the girl. The retainers deplored this outburst, and Obie, too, regretted it. Faced with this untoward happening, blameless Lyppaut declared he would stand trial, and offered other and ample amends. Whatever the rights and wrongs of the case, he demanded justice of his peers at a diet attended by Princes, and protested his innocence of the charges. He urgently sought his sovereign’s grace and favour: but Meljanz’s anger had put checkmate to all happy thoughts.